


don't wander here//creepypasta

by orphan_account



Category: Creepypasta - Fandom
Genre: Blood and Gore, Creepypasta, F/F, F/M, Mild Gore, Mystery, Platonic Romance, Psychological Horror, Reader-Insert, Short Reader, Slow Romance, Unhinged Reader, Various Pastas
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-31
Updated: 2020-04-15
Packaged: 2021-02-23 13:24:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23412226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: "I Am Exhausted From Trying To Be Stronger Than I Feel,"
Relationships: Ann Lusen Mia | Nurse Ann/Reader, BEN (BEN Drowned)/Reader, Eyeless Jack & Original Character(s), Jeffrey Woods | Jeff the Killer/Reader, Sally (Creepypasta)/Reader, Slender Man/Reader, The Rake (Creepypasta)/Reader
Kudos: 15





	1. we're going down

Was it the adrenaline coursing through your veins, as you plummeted back down to earth or the smell of gasoline filling up your nostrils as the burning engine tore away from the plane? To be crashing into the soft, billowing snow of Maine all on your own; but let's pause for a moment to really get a true understanding on what went south on that Saturday afternoon.

As the fabric material that covered up your bedroom window ripped off, smacking you dead in the face, a sound echoed downstairs. Downstairs? Oh right, you were labeled as 'forgetful' by your friends for that incident that occurred in 4th grade, which you wouldn't doubt the idea. You softly groaned and flipped on your side, clutching your aching shoulder. "Come outside (Y/n)! I have a surprise for you near the docks!" - One voice rasped from the other side of your front door, ringing the doorbell once, then twice more. Getting up you stumbled around, picking up what smelt like fresh laundry. After putting said clothes on, you ran to the bathroom and combed out your hair, muttering an 'ouch' for a while; you quickly brushed your teeth and flew down the stairs to greet your guest.

"Hey," You mumbled, looking down at the floor.

"You ready to see what I got you?"

"I guess, Carmen,"

Carmen excitedly grabbed your hand and pulled you out of your home, handing you a pair of gloves to keep yourself warm; a childish smile on his tan face, he lead you around the docks, not where he had explained. At the moment you were absentmindedly looking at the ground, kicking up some sand on the beaches of Florida. As soon as you guys arrived at the runway (not the one for fashion) Carmen let go of your hand and offered you a chance to explore. "Did...," - You were trying to hold back tears. "Did you actually get me this?"

"I did, since your birthday is coming up soon and no 24-year-old should be left without their own plane!" The male honestly replied.

"Thank you Carabear,"

"You're welcome, and besides you should take it out for a test-run. I hear Maine is beautiful this time of year,"

"I hope so. Well, I guess this is goodbye for now, I'll message you when I land the plane,"

"Alright,"

Your vision flickered from the white of the snow, to the darkness of your mind as the flaming plane collided with the earth, making a long and spread-out trail for anyone to follow. Letting your eyelids flutter close, you lost consciousness and flopped your head back, which hit the seat and forced you to slide down. The dwindling smoke cloud that grew larger by the second, attracted the souls you didn't think would ever spare you from the destruction of your twenty-fourth, early birthday present. Before your plane could engulf you and itself into a burning ball of fire, two long arms grabbed you; throwing you over it's shoulder.

So much for a gift to enjoy and a friend to thank for it. To be fair though, neither one of you knew what was going to happen this faithful Saturday, among a completely new different state in an unknown part of America to you.


	2. Abort The Mission

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/n: Sorry about this random spur, I had already posted four other chapters on Quotev. I would feel bad if I didn't add at least another chapter

Mud, dirt, frizzy hair, the roaring flames of what could have happened drown out your insecure thoughts towards yourself. You felt dizzy, out of it, like you were the victim of a mass murder. _Who knows?_ A hand was on top of yours as you feel your own skin slowly peeling off, you wanted to vomit up all of your emotions; but come to think of it that would be too easy. As your eyelids peeled themselves open, you wheezed out what could have been a risky cough. "This **_human_** seems to have made it out of their comma, and their skin is peeling," - That person who was speaking - not directly at you - seemed to lace a lot of venom in that one word, human.

Is that what you call yourself, a low-life with nothing to live for? Apparently so, as you pulled the other person's hand off of your wrist and threw it back at them. You could hear the distinguished hiss of momentary anger through their unseen lips. "Are you sure, Ann?" Someone else replied to that 'Ann' person's comment.

"Yes sir, watch,"

A filthy, surgical blade scraped across your leg as you yelped, sending the instrument of torment deeper into your skin. "Good. Now have Jack help you re-wrap their bandages, they may of some good use for us; for training purposes,"

"Is that what you wish for sir?"

"Yes Ann, I suggest you hurry it up. We don't want to keep the others out of real practice,"

* * *

True to his or her (You didn't want to be un-modest in this day and age) word, the creature from earlier lures you down into the kitchen of this shared 'fort' with a plate of macaroni and pieces of uncooked ham in the woodland decorated kitchen. Gently sitting down along the heavy seat, you look around for any other signs of life to arrive. Nobody came running around with a sock in their hand, ready to launch it at you with no remorse; which was a relief in your opinion.

Two large forks sat in front of you. Why two, rather than just one singular fork? Clenching your [skin-colored] hand the utensil in front of you, you picked up the macaroni with a single stab. Before you could even take a bite, a single bullet flew by your head forcing you to drop the food and dodge as swiftly as possible. "Hu....hum....human...," - Several voices to make one, spoke out to you.

~~stop it! stop iT! stop IT! stoP IT! stOP IT! sTOP IT! STOP IT!!!~~

"Let me leave, please. I can't handle this anymore," You chocked up a sob, scratching at your ears. Said voice or _voices_ gave you a look of disappointment so strong it made bile crawl up your throat, to the point where you almost vomited. "I DON'T WANT TO BE HERE!"

"But you are here, why would you want to leave **me**?" - The childish giggle of that being's sent shivers down your spine in no order. You grabbed a fork and threw it at the being, sending them into a fit. A childish, lowdown fit; which shocked you seeing how mature they acted toward you. "I'm telling my dad!" They squealed. "And you'll regret being a jerk,"


	3. you're a jerk

"Wait! I'm sorry-," - You were so rudely interrupted by the figure, who put a finger on your lip. They shrug absently, before making a slicing motion with their thumb across the neck; what was sickening was that blood began to ooze down, covering the table in shallow puddles. The liquid was sticky, growing thicker by the second with a smell so metallic that you were really close to vomiting. It covered your food, making you drop your fork and rub your eyes. When you looked back up at the figure, they were gone and there was no blood on the table or your food -- only your trembling hands to guide you back to reality.

* * *

Two weeks you've been stuck inside this unhinged facility, minus the amount of time you were in a coma, with nothing to do besides hide in a smelly closet or run around outside with a paper bag on your head. Everyone was after you because you are their plaything, a victim to your own faults and stupidity. For being so trusting to Carmen and everyone else who were your so called friends. How did you manage to upset this many people in a short amount of time? Would you even call them people?

Slumping your shoulders, you let out a short breath of discomfort; a pang of irritation irked within your long, lost soul. On the small, tattered couch were beings on both of your sides - a smaller male with blonde hair, pointy ears and a big ego to your left. To your right was another male with charcoal black hair, two creepy burned-out eyes, a scar that spanned across both sides of his lips; and skin so paper-pale and leathery it made you shiver and shake. They were playing Half-Life 2 on the stolen (you assumed) Xbox that seemed to be hooked-up to older television set, currently screaming at each other.

"Could you please move? I need to go use the restroom," You pleaded trying to stand up. With no avail, the two just shoved you back down at every chance you could to escape. The blonde grunted and let you suffer. "Just be quiet, you should be glad I ain't stab you yet; with all the whinin' you doin'," - Pale skin told you, an obvious sound of hatred in his tone.

"Hmph, you guys really are jerks,"

 ** _Slash!_** Two pliers were in the wall in front of you and the blade of a kitchen knife was digging onto the edge of your throat. Gagging from the lack of oxygen to your windpipe you flailed your arms in circles, trying to keep yourself awake and alive. Salty tears soaked your cheeks and the corners of your eyes, forcing you to let out a muffled cry of pain. "Go to sleep, you roach," - So you did.

**Author's Note:**

> updates on fridays


End file.
